


Hellbound

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel!Chris, Blowjobs, Childhood Trauma, Commands and collars, Deals With The Devil, Demon!Miles, Demon!Trager, Demon!Waylon, Devil!Jeremy, Going all out, Hell is in business, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Kink, Medical Torture, Miles and Waylon are best friends, Miles still wants his fingers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tail Kink, Tail Sex, Was supposed to be a one-shot but fuck that shit, Waylon's Puppy eyes, Wing Kink, anal tail fucking, angel!eddie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 00:17:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12310878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: Waylon Park and Miles Upshur are two semi-newbie Demon's working for the 'devilish' Jeremy Blaire who is the King (CEO) of Hell. And business is booming. The two new demons look promising so far and so the devil decides to test them by giving them a special task and their first victims to inflict punishment on. The two are startled when they find their fresh meat is actually two of heaven's finest.





	Hellbound

**Author's Note:**

> So I got this idea a LONG while back but never really did anything with it. It was sort of a really rocky start but hopefully it gets better as I work along through it and get in the groove. My weekend writing sessions were halted by bad storms and shitty internet connection and a lack of power. So it knocked me out of my writing spree and it's been a bit rocky getting back into the swing of things. This will be updated at least once a week. I'm also working on several other ficts for this fandom right now so I have to watch my work load. I'm starting to overwhelm myself.

Hell is a nine story tinted glass office building in the heart of Denver, Colorado. It’s marked  under the disguise of a Murkoff medical corporation that requires special entry and heavy duty guards to get into. The building has many workers and it’s very clean. Sterile and organized like any other medical based facility. The all white walls , ceiling and floors were only contrasted by the foreboding black furniture used like accents that further unsettled those wandering the halls. There is no music that plays, not even in the lobby. No televisions or even clocks on the walls to notify the staff of the time of day. In hell, time doesn’t matter. When you’re in hell, your time is up.

 

In Hell, the devil is a businessman. A cold hearted son of a bitch known as Jeremy Blaire. The devil of a man wears a dark blue suit, expensive designer shoes and is clean shaven with a bone chilling glint in his eyes. He doesn’t have a tail or horns like one might think. After all, he used to be an angel. Now he’s just a cruel man sitting atop a throne. He sat with his legs crossed, leaning back in his chair as he gazed down at the digitized graphs and charts showing their intake on souls compared to deals being made and sins being committed. For the Devil, business was good. But good wasn’t good enough. He wanted more. To stick it to that uppity bastard that kicked him out.

 

A knock came upon the door to the bland white office. The devil looked up with a sneer. “Come in.” He growled, his eyes fixing on the two demons that walked through the door. One had sandy blonde locks and a timid demeanor to him which was unusual for a demon. His blue eyes turned down. The bat like wings they both had were bound against their backs beneath their shirt and ties. The only proof of their true association was the tails that swayed behind them and the horns peeking up out of their locks. The blonde’s barely peeking out while the demon at his side had long spikes that curved upwards. His proper office wear was disrupted by the dark brown jacket that was atrocious and old but the brunette refused to part with it. His brown locks were long disheveled swooping locks that drooped in an attractive styling of bangs above sharp green eyes. His presence was more outgoing and demanded the attention of everyone in the room. If his movie star looks were anything to show for it. He had a cheeky smile that could make any lovely lady wet with lust. The pair were strange, even as far as demons go. Both having one been human and surprisingly enough, they both interacted with each other during their human lives. Ending up in hell, they were tricked into making a deal with the cold hearted devil in front of them and swept out of the boringly average lives they had been living.

 

“Park! Upshur! Get your asses down to Circulation number 7. We’ve got a couple new packages of fresh meat that need   _‘special’_ attention.” The devil barked at the two before the door behind them even had a chance to shut.

 

Miles Upshur waved a lazy salute while Waylon Park gave a stumbling. “Yes sir.” And they were out the door. Not even halfway down the hall, Miles had started in complaining about the devil as per usual. Waylon was glad there were no cameras or staff to witness it or else Miles would be dealing with a punishment from Trager again. He was already missing a couple fingers from the last time he talked shit about their boss. Richard Trager was more then happy to do the honors, being the devil’s right hand man and Hell’s number one torturer. He was a surgeon in his human life back during the plague days. He found he enjoyed butchering people up in the name of ‘Medicine’ and when he landed himself in Hell, Jeremy was more then happy to place him at the top of the hill with the best torture tools around and an endless supply of souls to mutilate and inflict endless pain upon.

 

They took the elevator down to the basement floor where circulation was. The bottom floor was split up into nine different categories of circulation. Occasionally they would get mixed up but nobody really cared. Torture was torture in the end. There was a long corridor that resembled the same white decor as upstairs with the bright fluorescent lighting built into the ceiling and making the whole place glow. It was of course misleading. Miles cursed when he stopped in front of doorway number 7. The digital access pad stated the room was currently in use and wouldn’t allow anyone in or out. This meant Trager was in there doing his usual long winded spiel as a two-bit form of a welcoming party for their special guests. The brunette flashed his sharp fangs with a growl of annoyance as he pressed the intercom button on the pad. “Doc! Open the fucking door!”

 

Waylon winced, fidgeting beside his best friend. It was true, they had known each other before all of this. They went to high school together at Mount Massive High and graduated. Their work took them two different directions afterwards, Miles was an investigative journalist and Waylon a software engineer. They attended the same college for a short while then hadn’t spoken to each other in years due to their professions. Only to end up sitting in the same white washed room, kneeling before Jeremy Blaire and Doctor Richard Trager.

 

As a demon, one doesn’t just wake up and _poof! You’re a demon! Happy birthday!_ It’s not that simple. They had maintained their normal human forms but the process of becoming a demon is a very painful and torturous transformation. A mutation of sorts. The extra appendages are grown over the span of anywhere from a few hours to a few days. Doctor Trager oversaw their mutations and _assisted_ in it. It was a nice way of saying he got a kick out of using them as guinea pigs for his new ‘medicines’ for his upcoming victims. Pain is said to also spur the transformation on and make it go faster. Miles swears up and down that was a load of bullshit and Waylon had to agree.

 

Miles was growing impatient with the doctor and began pounding on the door harshly before it finally slid open. The man’s long silver hair was tied back and he had on a special pair of wire rimmed circular lense glasses. Despite it being the twenty first century, the man refused to depart with it. Along with his rather crude sets of torture equipment. He wore a bloodied smock on his front that looked more like a butcher’s apron instead of a doctor’s garb but once again, it was from Trager’s human years. It seemed they all had something they still held onto from those times. Trager wasn’t like normal demons. He had a beaky nose and he cut off his own wings, leaving boney stubs in their place and his horns were broken off. He claims they got in the way. He was also missing patches of flesh on one arm as well. His dull brown eyes narrowed at Miles upon finding the annoying green eyed demon to be the pest disrupting his fun. “Hey there buddy.” Trager greeted, peeling his eyes off of Miles for a moment to address Waylon. A glint sparked in his eyes at the blond’s timid posture as Waylon placed himself partially behind Miles.

 

Miles noticed the exchange and gave a low snarl of warning towards Trager. “Leave. Jeremy sent us to deal with these ones.”

 

Trager regarded the sharp tongued words from the broad shouldered brunette as he squared up to the doctor while simultaneously protecting his demon counterpart. He raised a brow at the male and then rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Fine but you and me are going to have a little one on one later.” He clamped a hand down on Miles’ shoulder, a vice grip of warning as he purred. “Remember Miles, Doctor’s orders.” A cold chill rushed into Miles’ veins but he didn’t let it show. Glaring the doctor down as he watched him vacate the room and make his way down the hall to another.

 

The two entered the room, the automatic doors shutting behind them. This room was set up like a medical facility. Not like a normal hospital though. It appeared more like an Asylum. Everything was clean and sterilized. There were gurneys situated around the room and hospital beds bolted to the floors. An examination table was at the far end. The place was surprisingly big. Each individual room was about the size of a gymnasium. The gurneys and beds were separated by white curtains and at the center of the room there were a series of examination tables. Four of them were always ready to be used. At the moment, two were occupied. The occupants made Waylon and Miles stop dead in their tracks.

 

They were two very large and muscular men. One had short closely cropped brown hair that had the style of a military man. He had light brown eyes that were forced to stare up at the bright fluorescent lights of the adjustable exam lighting. His shoulders were wide and he looked like he could easily dwarf both demons and probably could devour the doctor in a heartbeat.  The other male was only a few inches shorted, where the brown haired man was stockier in build with wide muscular everything. The blue eyed male had a sleeker build that was still rather muscular in the shoulders, back and torso. Their shirts were absent which allowed Waylon quite the eyeful  of their well toned forms. The blue eyed male’s hair was slicked back neatly and shaved on the sides to give a clean gentlemanly appearance.

 

Trager had a flair for the dramatics and had both men in just a pair of white sweatpants and the exam lighting directed right over their faces so they had to squint against the blinding white lighting. Their heads were held firmly in place, forcing them to face directly up due to a special brace on either side. Their arms, legs, waist and torso were strapped down to the tables. They appeared to be in immense pain as Waylon moved closer, their bodies were pinning their massive white feathery wings to the tables. Feathers were littering the floor around the table, red tipped where they met flesh as if they’d been forcefully plucked out. There was a metal rolling cart that had all sorts of tools waiting and ready to be used nearby. A couple of them had obviously been used, a set of pliers for one.

 

Miles moved to the side of the largest Angel while Waylon went to the other. They moved the lighting out of their faces and turned them off, allowing the two to blink their blurry eyes. The largest of the angel’s cursed an ancient slur when he spotted the demons looming over them. The demons on the other hand didn’t quite know what to do. This was supposed to be their first major job. Normally they don’t torture, they just run around and deal with dropping off the subjects to their appointed areas of punishment or do all the bullshit paperwork for the higher ranking demons when they finish their jobs. But this time, this time they were given a very special assignment. They were to torture two angels which they were struggling to grasp why two angels were even in hell in the first place.

 

“Are you alright?” Waylon asked quickly, his brows furrowed in concern. Him and Miles may have been demons but they were both very human still and  knew well enough that harming an angel was a big deal. Other demons would kill for the opportunity and often gloated when they killed or injured an angel. Sometimes they would keep souvenirs of feathers or halos when they were done. But with a quick glance over the pair, these two didn’t have their halos.

 

“You’re Fallen.” Miles cursed under his breath, blurting what Waylon was thinking as well.

 

The blue eyed Angel wasn’t very happy at being reminded of his failed status amongst heaven. The largest one gave a simple grunt at the words. “What does it matter to a couple of demons like you?” The largest one growled.

 

“Chris, calm yourself.” The blue eyed angel warned, drawing another growl from his partner. Those deep blue depths turned to Waylon and he thought he was about to fall over. He had never seen eyes that shade of blue in all his life. “Yes, we’re Fallen.”

 

“I thought Fallen get their wings taken as well.” Waylon spoke but before either angel could speak, Miles was quick to answer.

 

“That’s a misconception. The devil was the only angel to ever get his halo and wings taken at the same time. All the angels after are given a period of atonement where their wings slowly lose their feathers and weaken. When that period is up and they haven’t obtained God’s forgiveness, their wings fall off.” The demon’s green eyes seemed sad as he gazed over the two angels. Probably imagining what a terrible fate that must be. They were lucky though, being allowed that chance.

 

The two angels and the demon lapsed into silence. Waylon glanced between the two before his eyes rested on his partner. Miles’ gaze rose up to meet those pleading puppy eyes. “No. No Waylon. I know what you’re thinking.”

 

The blue eyed angel looked up, tilting his head slightly, rising it out of the bracer’s hold and stared between the demonic pair. Waylon’s tail was tucked between his legs and his eyes were turned up, head tilted slightly. Miles was obviously struggling before a loud curse leap from his lips and he placed a hand over his face. The missing fingers were obvious in the attempt to hide from the assaulting gaze. “It’s not like they’re a couple of strays you can take in….” Another curse as if Waylon’s side of the argument was going on where the angel’s couldn’t hear but it was all in the look the blond was portraying. Even as a demon he looked like a pleading puppy begging to crawl into bed with his master when he knows for a fact he’s not allowed. “Waylon! We’re not allowed….what about Trager..?” Miles groaned, giving that look another glance before his head tipped back and another long spew of cursed streamed out. “Fucking fine! We’ll help. You owe me for eternity.”

 

Waylon’s posture perked up with a smile, his tail swishing around happily, bumping up against the blue eyed Angel’s bound wrists. The spade tip graced over the male’s open palm which closed around it to stroke the black leathery appendage. A yelp of surprise broke from Waylon’s lips as he whirled around to face the angel, wide eyed with face flushed a light shade of pink. “Don’t touch that!” He barked, tucking his tail back up around his waist. A bark of laughter erupted from Miles and the bulky Angel, Chris’ lips at Waylon’s flustered appearance.

 

“I told you to get that belt to tuck your tail into dumbass.” Miles harped on Waylon. A demon’s tail was one of their weak spots. It was highly sensitive, especially with lower level demons like Miles and Waylon. It could be used as a form of self-defense as well as like an extra hand but most often it was used to display behavior and emotion. It was a tell all which was why many demons, Miles included, wore special belts on their uniforms that allows them to tuck their tail into and out of view. It also prevents one from accidentally shutting a door on said sensitive appendage.

 

“So boys, excuse me for interrupting but, what the hell is going on here?” The blue eyed male asked, his gaze switching between the pair. They rested on the blonde demon when he opened his mouth to speak.

 

“Well, here’s the thing.” He started, fussing with his tail in his hands like a nervous school boy. “We’re supposed to be your torturers apparently. The devil himself gave us the task. But neither of us wants to do it. I don’t- we don’t want to kill an angel.” His voice had grown soft and his gaze turned down to the floor.

 

The blue eyed angel noticed this man was far too timid for a demon. He raised his brows in confusion, puzzled by this admittance and honestly finding it hard to believe. “Right…” Chris was the one to speak up with a mocking tone. “I’m finding it hard to believe a couple of lying demons. Right Eddie?”

 

The blue eyed angel, Eddie regarded his partner’s words with a scowl. He was good at reading people. He was good at noticing...things. This demon, this man before him wasn’t like the mad doctor he was just dealing with earlier or the many demon’s he’s fought and killed in the past. And _‘God he has killed a lot.’_ but this one was so much more. He wasn’t meant to be a demon. His counterpart though...the jury was still out on him.

 

“Hush Chris. I think we should give them a chance. It’s not like it could get any worse.” _‘Torture was torture afterall.’_


End file.
